


You're the Only One Who Knows Exactly What I Mean

by yuffiehighwind



Category: China Illinois
Genre: 5 Times, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-09-08
Updated: 2015-04-30
Packaged: 2018-02-16 15:01:42
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 15,008
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2274204
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/yuffiehighwind/pseuds/yuffiehighwind
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Five times Steve Smith never hooked up with Pony Merks.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. UCI Can't Get No Satisfaction

**Author's Note:**

> The title is a lyric from the song You're the Only One by Maria Mena.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> When the Mayor takes over UCI and bans premarital sex, Pony offers to marry Steve. She hadn't expected him to take her offer seriously, but here they are. Alternate ending to S1E2 "Dean vs Mayor."

At the foot of the altar in UCI's small chapel, Pony Merks stood resplendent - (Steve said she looked "pretty good" when he saw her) - in a flowing white wedding gown. The train kept getting caught on things on the way to the chapel, so much of the lace was now in shreds. Nonetheless, she looked beautiful. Steve had changed into a black tux, complete with bow tie. The couple was flanked on either side by Baby Cakes and Frank, who still wore his holy security guard uniform. B.C. wore a suit three sizes too small for him that he'd borrowed from his father.

"I can't believe I'm actually doing this," Pony muttered.

The person officiating the ceremony was, mercifully, not the Mayor himself, although he did love a good wedding. The role was instead filled by UCI's chaplain, a liberal protestant who, upon the Dean's eviction, had to become a conservative evangelical overnight.  He usually had couples write their own vows and pick their own music, but today's service was dictated by the stringent confines of tradition. They would go by the usual script.

After a lengthy round of prayers praising the Lord Jesus Christ, the chaplain finally began the saying of the vows.

"Do you, Éponine Merks--"

"Your name's _Éponine?_ " Steve blurted, laughing. "Isn't that French?"

"Shut up. My Dad really liked Les Misérables."

"Do you, Éponine, take Steven Smith to be your lawfully wedded husband, to have and to hold, from this day forward, for better, for worse, for richer, for poorer, in sickness and in health, to love and to cherish, till death do you part, according to God's holy ordinance?"

Pony sighed wearily. "I do."

"Do you, Steven Smith--" 

"Yeah, yeah, all of that stuff."

"By the power vested in me by the state of Illinois, I now pronounce you--"

"Wait!" Frank said.

Everything came screeching to a halt.

"What about the rings? It's not official without your wedding bands! How else is God supposed to know you got hitched?"

"Isn't God omnipotent, Frank?" Steve said.

"Yeah," Pony added, "he's watching us right now and seeing it's totally legal and binding and everything. You've got the paperwork, right, Father?"

"Pastor. And yes."

"Hang on a second," Steve said. He leaned forward and whispered to Pony, "You mean we gotta get married for _real?"_

"It's real in the eyes of _God_ , Steve!" Frank said.

"I've got you guys covered," said Baby Cakes, pulling out two plastic rings from his jacket pocket. One had Spiderman's face and the other resembled Skeletor.

"Thanks B.C," Pony said. She showed them to Steve. "We can always get different ones later. Maybe one with a few more diamonds?"

"This wedding has gotten totally derailed. Pony, do you marry me?"

She shrugged.

"Hold out your hand. Do you want the Spiderman one, or--?" 

"I'll take Skeletor."

"I now pronounce you husband and wife," said the chaplain. "You may kiss the bride."

Steve said, " _Finally_ ," and embraced Pony. After some initial awkwardness, they relaxed into the kiss, which became more and more inappropriate for church as it went on.

"Okay, that's enough!" Frank barked, pushing the two apart with his baton.

Baby Cakes pulled both of them into his arms and lifted them off the ground. "Congratulations!" he said, and squeezed, making them both wince in pain.

"Thanks, Baby Cakes."

"Can you put us down, now?"

 

* * *

 

"They really aren't going to let us go back to your apartment?" Pony swiped her ID card to enter the dorm. "Aren't you still paying rent?"

"Yeah," Steve said, "so this is tyrannical bullshit. Which floor are you on?"

"Four," Pony said. "Can you hold up my dress?" Steve did so and they entered the elevator.

It was a quick ride and an even swifter walk. Pony unlocked the door and began to enter when Steve picked her up, making her squeal in surprise. He dumped Pony on the narrow bed, then shut the door.

Steve chuckled. "I still can't believe you're my wife," he said, climbing on top of her.

"Second wife," Pony said. Steve frowned and Pony explained, "You told me all about her one night when you were shitfaced. Also the FBI had a photo of her. You guys looked cute, even with Reagan in the shot."

Steve sighed and sat up. "All this talk about my ex is killing my erection."

"I'm sorry for bringing it up," Pony said. She tugged on his sleeve so he would look at her.  "Hey. Why'd you marry me, anyway? Was it just to get laid?"

Steve leaned down and whispered, "Pretty much," and kissed her. He only brushed her lips with his own before switching his attention to her neck. Pony gasped; he'd found the spot beneath her ear that turned her on, making her moan. Steve took off his jacket; Pony removed his bowtie but let Steve keep his glasses on. Kneeling between her legs, Steve pushed up her dress. Having trouble rolling down her stockings, he complained, "Why are you wearing so many  _layers?_ "

Pony chuckled, unbuckling his trousers. "Why are you?"

They managed to undress just enough to satisfy desires that had been building up over the last few weeks. They could have held out for months or even years without a partner if the Mayor hadn't also banned masturbation.

"Shit, shit, shit," Pony said halfway through, ceasing the rhythmic thrust of her hips and tapping Steve on the shoulder so he would stop.

"What? What is it?"

"I forgot the condoms! And the pharmacy refused to refill my prescription for birth control last month!"

"Well, where are they?" Steve hoped they were near the bed.

"Check under the mattress."

Steve did, and found a string of them.

 _"Pony_."

"Don't give me that look. You're no saint yourself."

Afterwards, they lay in Pony's bed half-dressed, catching their breath and wondering whether it had been worth it.

"That was terrible."

"That was pretty bad."

Steve and Pony looked at each other, then at their wedding bands.

"Let's try again."

"Yeah, let's," Steve said. "And this time I'll go down on you."

Pony blinked. "You like that?"

Steve shrugged. "Why wouldn't I?"

Pony kissed him. Then she grasped his shoulders and pushed him southward.

"There's no time like the present," she said, laughing.

Steve made a displeased sound. "I didn't mean right _now._ "

"Less talking, more licking."

" _Fuckin'_ Mayor..."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Steve's ex-wife is only seen once, in S1E1, "Rewind, Pause, Pay!" in which the FBI shows the gang photographs of former President Ronald Reagan traveling back in time to meddle in Steve's life. Steve's ex-wife is in two of the photos: The first is Steve carrying her across the threshold after their wedding, and the second is of her leaving him.
> 
> The chapter's title is a play on the song (I Can't Get No) Satisfaction by the Rolling Stones.


	2. Do It Like They Do On the Discovery Channel

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> When the Dean promotes Steve and Pony to being tenured professors, they're inducted into a shadowy faculty group whose favorite monthly activity would make a furry's head spin. Alternate ending to S1E5, "Secret Society."

"Ugh, my head." Steve groaned. He felt the sun beating on his closed eyes, and opening one lid nearly blinded him. It was morning, and Steve lay in a clearing in the middle of the woods with no idea how he got there.

Steve was completely naked, using his brown jacket as a blanket. He rolled over and found a naked girl lying beside him.

 _Yes!_ Steve congratulated himself. She was facing away from him, so he sat up to see her face. He couldn't have possibly prepared for what he saw.

It was Pony.

The girl had also draped herself in discarded clothing, namely her blue blazer. This still left most of her body exposed, so Steve covered the rest of her up with his jacket. The motion made her stir.

Steve quickly searched for the rest of their clothes and found them in a nearby bush. He managed to pull on his boxers before she opened her eyes.

"Steve?" Pony sat up and looked around. "Where are we?"

"I don't know," he answered truthfully. "Last thing I remember is the Dean serving us this weird green drink and the rest is a blur."

Pony looked confused, but after a moment of thought, she said, "Of course! The Secret Society meeting was last night. We must have gotten loaded on...whatever that stuff was and..." Blushing, the girl pulled the makeshift blanket more tightly around herself.

"Hey, there's no proof we did anything but cuddle," Steve said.

Pony made a sweeping gesture with her hand to emphasize their nakedness, and gave him a look that said _Are you kidding me?_

"Okay, so we had sex in the woods. Big deal. We won't let it get in the way of our...professional relationship."

Pony rolled her eyes. "We stopped acting professional months ago. Face it, you're my friend, even though you're an asshole."

"Yeah, well, you're a bitch. Let's get dressed and find my car."

Steve handed Pony her skirt and blouse. "Turn around," she said. Steve complied, but couldn't resist sneaking a peek over his shoulder while they dressed. Pony was a bit chubby but not unattractive. She was still very cute - half his age, in fact - and despite the fact she was _Pony_ , Steve knew he would totally hit that. He _had_ totally hit that.

Walking over to him on unsteady legs, Pony said, "I feel really strange." She stumbled and Steve reached out to hold her up. "It's almost like adjusting to dry land after being on a boat for a long time. That sounds pretty crazy, huh?"

"I kinda get what you mean." It felt awkward standing on two feet as well.

A squirrel scurried past them, and Steve's eyes snapped to it. He was suddenly very, very hungry.

 

* * *

 

"Wow-ee!"

Back at the Dean's cabin, Sammy zipped towards them in her wheelchair, looking satisfied and almost...mischievous.

"What a night!" she said. "Now you know what it's _really_ like to be tenured."

Other faculty milled around outside the cabin, talking and laughing, sharing bottles of water and starting up their cars. Both Leonard and Dr. Falgot winked at them as they passed, and Steve saw it made Pony very uncomfortable. She gave them polite waves and briskly walked to Steve's car. What the hell had happened? Some kind of orgy?

The Dean wasn't around, so Steve asked Leonard.

"How do you not remember? You majestically soared through the sky half the night, making us all _immensely_ jealous! Even the other birds were envious." Leonard called over his shoulder, "Weren't you, Kyle?" He turned back to Steve, "He totally was, and he's been rubbing it in our faces for years. We don't really get to _pick_ the forms we take. They're sort of...manifestations of our personalities."

"Wow, okay, I didn't understand a single goddamn word you just said. Are you telling me I was a _bird_ last night? Literally?"

The others around Steve nodded, giving each other looks like _What an idiot._

"Did you hit the sauce afterwards?" Dr. Falgot asked. "'Cuz everyone knows eagles can't handle their liquor."

"I didn't drink any damn--Okay, that elixir you guys gave us last night? If it turned me into an _eagle_ , surely it could give me short term memory loss. Even tequila does that, and its properties are significantly less powerful."

"I dunno," Falgot said. "Nothing's quite like tequila. Not even Elixir."

"This isn't your run-of-the-mill booze, Steve," Leonard said. "You'll remember in a few hours, and will be counting the days until next month's meeting."

"Come on, Steve," Pony hollered from the car. "Let's go!"

Steve said his goodbyes and got in the car. As they were pulling away, he said, "We turned into animals last night."

Pony snorted. "Yeah, and it _won't_ be happening again."

"You don't understand. We _literally_ turned into animals last night. Leonard just told me I was an _eagle_. An _eagle_ , Pony! And I'm fairly certain you were a horse."

"Excuse me?"

"Your name's 'Pony.'"

"That doesn't mean I can turn into one. Ugh, drop me off at my house."

Outside Pony's house, Steve said, "When you remember, will you text me?"

"You're coming off as kind of clingy, and I'm a professor now, not some doe-eyed TA."

Steve laughed. "You never were, even before you got promoted." Watching Pony enter the house, carrying her jacket in one hand and heels in the other, Steve sighed. He didn't like having Pony mad at him. Even the implication of sex with her raised complicated feelings.

 

* * *

 

Later that day, a furious Frank pressed them for information about the previous night.

"We were at the movies," Steve said. Engrossed in her book, Pony said nothing.

Frank was furious. "First she robs me of my tenure, and now she's your fucking _girlfriend?"_

"No, see, it was a tenure orientation film."

"It really wasn't for me," Pony added, with no further comment.

As the morning went on, both of them remembered more and more about the "meeting." Steve recalled soaring through the sky above a shameless animal orgy, hunting rodents and smaller birds. He even screwed a coworker that was transformed into a pig. He couldn't remember who he or she actually was.

Pony, however, had fled from the scene immediately, rebuffing the advances of an amorous llama and every other member of faculty. It was nearly dawn when Steve finally found her. The Elixir had begun to wear off, and he tried to look away while Pony morphed back into her human form. It was not as grotesque as when she became a horse, however. Her transformation back was strangely beautiful.

Once they were human again, a freaked out Pony wrapped her arms around him. "I hate you," she whispered. "No you don't," Steve said, and kissed her. The Elixir still made his head swim, and perhaps taking advantage of a confused, scared, and now two-legged Pony was unethical, but Steve wasn't in his right mind. Alcohol, drugs, and magic potions were all enemies of common sense.

Today Steve was tempted to sneak into the Dean's cabin and steal the Elixir for himself. He wanted to fly again - to feel the exhilaration of soaring over China watching the tiny people go about their day. He wanted to shove it in Frank's face, or _maybe_ even share it with him, once his brother stopped being a whiney prick. Pony wouldn't approve, however. She would stop him somehow, and she would be right to.

Instead Steve waited for the next Secret Society meeting to come and begged Pony to come along. He wanted her there not just to prove her wrong - that she would enjoy herself too - but so they could enjoy it together.

He finally made it a drinking contest, the only language either of them really understood. Pony lost, which meant she had to come to the meeting. She transformed away from the others at the edge of the woods, and Steve flew over to perch on her back. She kicked the air and failed to dislodge him.

"Steve!" she said. "Get off me! Go hump your pig friend or eat a mouse or something."

"I'm not gonna hit on you," Steve said. "I just want you to understand how I feel. How we all feel." Pony stopped trying to buck Steve off her back and listened. "We can do things now that we couldn't as humans. I can fly and it's fuckin' _awesome!_ You, Pony? You can run! _Way_ faster than any of these other assholes. So let's take these bodies out for a spin. What do you say?"

It was difficult to read Pony's expression as a horse, but she seemed to no longer be glaring at him.

"Alright," she said. "One ride, then we come right back."

Pony started walking, then quickened to a trot. Steve spread his wings and took off. He kept up with her by soaring higher as she sped into a canter, then a gallop. He caught the wind and glided ahead of her, saying, "What do you think, kid?"

"You were right, Steve! This _is_ fun!"

The Dean had sworn the pair to secrecy, commanding them to keep a low profile, but no one would believe a horse had galloped across the campus shouting "Woohoo!" anyway.

 

* * *

 

"I feel amazing," Pony said back at the cabin. " _Tired_ but..." She laughed. "Full of endorphins. I just had the workout of my life. I feel...exhilarated. Thank you, Steve."

"Anytime, Ponygirl."

"I have a request."

"What's that?" he asked, landing on her back.

"Can we do this again, next time? Every time I come to one of these crazy 'meetings?'"

"Sure thing. And when you don't?"

" _Then_ you have my permission to hump any hogs you want."

"I am _never_ going to live that down, am I?"

"Nope."

"You think I should get her number?"

"I'm pretty sure that was Professor MacDonald from over in Mathematics."

"MacDonald? That name doesn't ring a bell."

" _He_ teaches Calculus."

Steve made a distressed noise. Pony turned her head to look at him and if horses could smirk, she would.

"Whatever happens at the cabin," he said, " _stays_ at the cabin."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Frank's line about Pony being Steve's girlfriend is taken from the episode. 
> 
> The chapter's title is a lyric from the song The Bad Touch by The Bloodhound Gang.
> 
> Brad Neely later Tweeted that Steve is actually 35 - probably 33 when this takes place - but I had assumed he was 40 when I wrote this, which is why Steve says Pony is "half" his age.


	3. All Pressed Up in Black and White

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> When the Dean has the Old Schoolhouse refurbished for the annual Faculty Prom, Steve and Pony are the only ones who can't find dates. While the others discover a menacing force lurks within the Schoolhouse, they leave the dance early and discover some things about each other. Alternate ending to S1E6, "Prom Face/Off." Borderline sexually explicit.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Half the dialogue said before Steve and Pony make their bet is taken from the episode, and the bet itself is copied verbatim. Leonard, Baby Cakes, and Pony's final lines are also from the episode.

It was October, the entirely wrong season for prom, but any excuse to dance, drink, and get laid was alright in Steve's book.

Partly because they admired the Dean, partly because they feared him, and mostly because they hated actually teaching, Steve, Frank, Pony, and Baby Cakes ended up on the prom planning committee. Their job was to decorate the refurbished Schoolhouse's ballroom, and Frank spent much of this time boasting he had snagged (in truth, blackmailed) the hottest professor on campus as his date.

Steve was striking out left and right with every woman he asked, and Pony couldn't find a date either. With less than three hours to spare, the pair stood in the conference room making last minute phone calls and crossing off their lists of prospective dates.The idea of going together never crossed their minds until Frank made a comment.

"Wouldn't it be funny if you two just went together?"

When Pony scoffed at the idea, something strange happened. Steve was offended. And not just jokey offended, but truly _hurt_.

"What?" he asked.

"I mean, come on," Pony said, "you're just not--"

"Not what?" he said bitterly. "Not your usual little nerd boyfriend so hard up he makes you feel pretty?”

Pony's eyes lit up with anger. "You are such a mean, old asshole!"

 _Shit_.

Steve backtracked, saying, "Pony, you misunderstood me."

"No, we're doing this," she said, "you bald, sad loser." Steve left the room but Pony followed him. "What, that doesn't make you feel pretty?" she asked sarcastically.

Steve headed for the exit, hoping Pony would take the hint and go to the prom separately.

"Why do you have to be such a bitch?" he asked. Pony laughed, the sound still laced with outrage. "I get it, alright? You can stop insulting me now."

"You should count yourself lucky I'm still going to this dance at all. I'll see you later, Steve." With that, Pony turned and walked the other way.

 

* * *

 

At the prom, the Dean belittled Steve for having no date and crossed him off the candidates list for Prom King and Queen.

"Disqualified!"

"I know. You don't have to rub it in."

Steve noticed Pony enter shortly thereafter and get the same treatment from the Dean. (He didn't seem to care she was still a student, and she was on the list.)

"No date, huh?"

Pony acted cool and nonchalant.

"Nope."

"Disqualified!"

Steve mingled with the crowd and listened to the band, but ultimately ended up drinking alone at a table in the corner. Pony sat down across from him. There was no avoiding this girl.

Steve and Pony's conversation was still laced with bitterness from earlier, but they kept each other company seeing who could drink the most beers in the shortest amount of time. It was fine - they did this together all the time - but watching the dancing, kissing couples bummed Steve out.

"I can’t believe I don’t have a date. I’ve gotta steal someone’s wife, or show my penis—“

Pony stood up. Waving her beer, she exclaimed, “You couldn’t steal anyone’s wife!" She gestured to the dance floor. "Now I? I could take _any_ of these mofos from _any_ bitch in here!”

Now things had gotten more interesting.

"Then the first person who gets a stolen date tonight gets—"

"Respect," Pony said. "Real deal respect."

It wouldn't be Steve's first choice, but it did make better stakes than anything else he could think of. Yeah, he could agree to that. They clinked their bottles and the game was on.

 

* * *

 

 

Steve spent about as much time sabotaging Pony's attempts to score as he did trying to pull his own date. It was fun, too. More fun than he'd had in some time, even though her own digs at him pissed him off. It was only fair, though. Pony wasn't the only one playing dirty.

After a few more beers, cleverness gave way to desperation. By now, Steve had narrowly avoided getting slapped or having drinks thrown in his face more than once. He and Pony had hit on so many prom guests, they finally found themselves targeting the same couple.

"Did it hurt? When you fell from heaven?" Steve had cornered a woman by the stage, right next to one of the speakers. She stared at him blankly, not even dignifying it with a response. "I've got _two_ PHds, ya know," Steve said. He winked. "In _sex."_

"You have such a _great_ butt," came a female voice to Steve's left. It was Pony. "I mean tux. I meant to say tux."

Steve was tempted to turn around and point out another of Pony's shortcomings to the latest poor asshole she'd thrown herself at, when his own mark had gone and done it for him.

"Can I _help_ you?" the woman said irritably.

Pony pointed her beer bottle at the woman. Some of its contents spilled on the floor.

"You wanna take it outside, lady? 'Cuz I saw him first."

"I'm her _husband_ ," the man said. "And who's _this_ guy?" He pointed at Steve.

"Steve," Pony said. "What a coincidence."

"I was thinking the same thing," Steve said. "Have you really run out of so many options that you're trying to break up the same couple I am?"

"You got dibs on couples now?" The couple in question looked disgusted and walked away. "Dammit, Steve, look what you did!"

"What _I_ did? Look at you, you're hammered!"

"Oh, like you're not. I can smell your breath from here."

Proving his point, Pony drained the rest of her beer. She held it up over her eye trying to see if any drops were left, which Steve couldn't help but find endearing. This spilled beer on her dress. It wasn't a lot, but was enough to leave a stain.

"This sucks," she said, tossing the bottle over her shoulder. A smash and a pained yelp came from somewhere behind her.

"Yeah, I'm just gonna call it a night," Steve said.

Pony chuckled. "You don't want to see who they crown King and Queen?"

"Ugh, no," Steve said. "Besides, it looks like my brother's a front runner."

Frank and Donna twirled around the dance floor eliciting "oohs" and "aahs" from the other quests. (Was Frank's back _bleeding?_ ) Steve shoved his hands in his pockets and headed for the exit.

"Wait for me," Pony said.

Not wanting to be seen by Frank or the Dean, Steve ducked out a side door. Pony followed him to his car.

"Um, you really shouldn't be driving in your condition," she said.

"And what condition might that be?"

"You're drunk," she said, hiccuping. "Really, really drunk. I'll drive." Pony fished around in her purse for her keys.

"You are _way_ more drunk than I am," Steve said. Pony swayed from side to side a bit, unbalanced in her high heels.

"Looks like we're walking home, then," she said.

"It's pretty far. I'll call us a taxi."

Steve took out his cell phone and dialed. He noticed Pony had wrapped her arms around herself, shivering.

"Here," he said. "Take my jacket." Steve placed the jacket over her shoulders.

"Thanks."

"Hello, MyCab?" Steve said into the phone. "Yeah, I'd like a taxi. The Old Schoolhouse at UCI. Yeah, right across from the faculty parking lot. _No,_ it's not haunted. Thirty minutes? Thanks." Steve hung up. "There. Happy now?"

"Thirty minutes? Really?"

"It's a Friday night, Pony."

"In _China_." Pony pulled the jacket more tightly around herself. "Who the hell has a prom in October?"

"Because it's Homecoming? I dunno, the Dean just makes shit up."

"Oh, I forgot about Homecoming. I didn't go to the game or anything."

"Me neither. Hey, do you wanna wait in the car?"

Pony shrugged. "Fine, but I'm still mad at you."

The pair got into Steve's car, which was nicer and roomier than Pony's Cavalier.

"A Volkswagen Jetta," she said. "Not bad."

"Yeah, she's pretty good, but what I'd _really_ like is a Miata."

"She?"

"Ships are referred to as 'she,' and my car's like my ship, but on land."

Pony laughed. "You're drunk."

"So you keep saying."

Pony gave him a sloppy grin. "I dunno if it's the booze or what, but I'm less mad at you now."

Steve's own bitterness had faded too, and he wasn't sure if it was the beer or the moonlight, but Pony looked beautiful. She didn't need anybody to "make her feel pretty," she just was. That validation was something _Steve_ needed. All his bravado, all the lies he was smarter than he actually was, using sleazy charm to distract from his balding head, the glasses he didn't wear to look smart but really couldn't see without...All of this masked deep-set insecurity. Pony was the first woman in years who could tolerate the real him. (Had _any_ woman?)

It would ruin their friendship if he leaned over and kissed her. Steve did it anyway.

Pony's lips were soft but tasted like King Drunk. Sure it was gross, but it was familiar. King Drunk was their favorite beer, and they drank it every day. Steve couldn't teach unless he was slightly buzzed, so he kept a supply in the minifridge under his desk. That probably meant he was an alcoholic, but his best friend was an enabler and drank at least two before class along with him. (Hang on a second, since when was she his "best friend?")

Pony leaned over the shifter to get closer to him and Steve wished his car didn't have bucket seats. Suddenly, she broke the kiss. "This is a bad idea," she said, hurting his feelings for the second time that day.

"Yeah," Steve said, wondering what the hell he'd been thinking. "You're right."

After an awkward pause, Pony said, "Fuck it!" and kissed him again, licking his lips so he would open his mouth. They touched tongues and soon were full-on frenching. Steve's jacket slipped off her shoulders, and Pony's breasts were dangerously close to falling out of her strapless dress. Steve pulled away briefly so he could reach the lever that reclined his seat. He lay back and Pony took this as her cue to climb on top of him.

They just kissed for a while, hands above the waist, until Pony began gyrating her hips and _oh God_ did that make him hard! And it wasn't just the woman in his lap that excited him, either. Weirdly enough, Steve was turned on by the callback to high school - fooling around in the backseat of his dad's Mustang afraid of getting caught, afraid it was wrong, nervous about losing his virginity in a parking lot to a girl he barely knew, but thrilled by all those "dangers" just the same.

It was different now, not just because it was twenty years later, but because he _did_ know this girl. She was someone he'd worked with every day for the past two months, and she'd sat in the front of his classroom for two years, raising her hand and challenging him whenever he fucked up. He hadn't viewed her sexually back then because she was patronizing (even if she sometimes _was_ the smartest person in the room), plain (always wearing those green t-shirts and jeans), and heavier than his usual type. It actually made her the perfect TA; one he'd never fuck. No sex meant no drama and no lawsuits. Now they were breaking that rule - at a prom, no less, like a couple of damn teenagers - and that?  _That_ was exciting.

Steve untied Pony's up-do, letting her long, black hair cascade down her back and shoulders. She always looked good with her hair down, especially now with her blood-red lips parted, chest heaving, and her large, round breasts spilling out of her dress.

" _God,_ Pony, I want you so bad!" As soon as it was out of his mouth, Steve could hear how stupid he sounded. It became apparent, however, Pony wanted him as well, because now she was unbuckling his belt, unzipping his slacks, and... _ohh..._

Pony struggled to take off her panties and decided to push them aside instead, or at least that's what seemed to be happening under her dress. Pony positioned Steve herself, and when she sank down...

"Your pussy feels so fucking _good._ " This statement got a delighted laugh, but Pony's giggles soon gave way to moans.

Because Steve wasn't in much of a position to do so, Pony did all the work. Their movement was restricted by the small space; Pony had to be careful not to hit her head on the ceiling or bump the steering wheel with her buttocks. She accidentally sounded the horn a couple times.

"Oh shit, do you think they heard that?"

"Over the music?" Steve said. "No way."

Listening closely, they could hear loud noises coming from the Schoolhouse. Nobody was paying any attention to the cars outside.

Steve ran his hands all over Pony's body while she rode him, exploring every bare patch of brown skin. He massaged her breasts and took one exposed nipple into his mouth, making her gasp. He did the same to her other breast and Pony's thrusts became more erratic. Steve squeezed her buttocks, then gripped her hips with both hands so he could guide their movement.

"Just like that," he murmured, once she'd found a steady rhythm. "A little faster." 

Breathing heavily, Pony sped up. 

"Not too fast," he said, and Pony replied earnestly, "Yes, Professor Smith." She bit her lip, channeling every naive freshman he'd ever bedded, and her expression made him laugh.

"Pony, don't...Don't do that. I can't take this seriously if you do." 

"Aw, no roleplay?" Pony said. "Though technically, I  _am_  your student, and you're officially my employer, so--"

Steve frowned, disliking the implications. "Yeah, but this isn't--you're not--"

_You're my friend._

Pony smiled. "I'm just messing with you, dude." She kissed him and said, "Now lie back and relax." With an evil little smirk, Pony gripped his wrists and pinned Steve's hands over his head. Clearly, the girl didn't need a teacher. She deserved her own classroom. 

Steve closed his eyes. _"Pony_..." 

Pony leaned down by his ear and said, in a throaty whisper, "Just let go."

Steve groaned. He was so close...

Suddenly, there was a loud knock on the window. Steve opened his eyes. It was Baby Cakes. Startled, Pony covered her breasts with her hands. Steve was grateful her dress hid everything else.

Steve rolled down the window. "Hey there, Baby Cakes," he said, trying to slow his breathing. He looked past B.C.'s shoulder and saw four emergency vehicles pulling up to the Schoolhouse. What he saw next killed his boner completely. "Holy shit, Pony, look!"

"What the hell happened?" she asked, staring wide eyed at the injured people fleeing the Schoolhouse.

"Well," Baby Cakes explained, "it all started when Dad experimented on these hippies back in the '70s..."

"She meant what happened tonight," said Steve.

"Oh. Well, all these hippies been livin' in the Old Schoolhouse for years. Dad's girlfriend escaped that big fire way back, but he put her back in after and she had a bunch o' kids--"

" _Tonight,_ B.C," Pony said, getting frustrated. "What happened--That guy has no face!"

"What the fuck?" Steve exclaimed, as another bloody prom guest stumbled past them, staunching their wounds with napkins.

Baby Cakes finally got to the point. "The hippies attacked everybody at the prom tryin' to defend their habitat. Alotta people died, but most of 'em just got their faces eaten. I guess me and the hippies are related, too. It's a real shame. I thought me and Mattie were gonna bump-bump."

"Who the hell is Mattie?"

"Did you just say 'related?'"

Steve and Pony quickly got dressed and walked over to the Schoolhouse so they could witness the massacre's aftermath firsthand. Leonard protected the feral hippies - who were apparently his children - from the cops, while the EMTs removed people from the building and performed triage, taking away the seriously wounded in ambulances. Pony and Steve looked for people they knew and found a mutilated, pissed off Sammy, a blood spattered Dr. Falgot, a stern Crystal, and an anxious Frank. Leonard and his feral mistress had been crowned King and Queen of the prom for some utterly insane reason, no doubt the Dean's idea.

Anybody Steve and Pony were actually friends with still had their faces. Except for Donna; her face was currently in Frank's pocket.

"Where were you guys?" Frank asked.

"Um, we were..."

"...out here smoking..."

"...pot, yeah. We were smoking some pot, so..."

"We kinda missed the massacre."

"But we're really glad you're okay."

Frank squinted at them, appraising their appearance - Pony's messy hair was a dead giveaway - and said, "You two were fucking in Steve's car, weren't you?"

"Goddammit, Frank..."

Frank held up his hands. "Far be it from me to judge." He chuckled. "But it's still funny you ended up each other's dates. After all that denial and arguing, well, it was inevitable."

Pony rolled her eyes, but now Steve didn't mind. Just then, their taxi drove up. The driver rolled down his window, looking bewildered by the chaos.

"Somebody call a cab?"

Steve raised his hand. "Over here. Pony, get in. Frank, we'll see you tomorrow."

Once they settled, the driver asked, "Where to?" Steve looked at Pony for a decision.

"Your place," she said. After a pause, Pony asked, "Where _do_ you live?"

Steve slung an arm around Pony's shoulders and gave the driver his address. Outside, the hippies piled into a car of their own.

"Dad, I really was in love," Steve heard Baby Cakes say, "and it hurts to know it was wrong."

"Love is always a little wrong," Leonard replied. He smiled. "That's what makes it so exciting."

As their taxi pulled away, Pony looked out the rear window.

"Should those dog people be driving?" she asked.

The hippies backed into the Schoolhouse at maximum speed, and both car and building burst into flames.

"Probably not."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> {Even though I'm almost positive that in season one Pony is supposed to be a graduate student...}
> 
> I set this chapter during fall semester of Pony's junior year based on a timeline I wrote, and October in particular because school Homecoming usually takes place in October, so having a dance wouldn't be unusual.
> 
> Assuming Season 1 spans one school year - and since Season 2 takes place during Pony's senior year in canon - one may conclude Pony is a junior in Season 1. Frank's date Donna is missing her face in S1E7, Chinese New Year, setting Prom Face/Off before December. People are wearing short sleeves in the episode, so it's probably *not* October, but it's a cartoon in which feral hippies eat people's faces and professors can turn into birds, so...
> 
> If it is true that Season 1 is set during Pony's junior year, my headcanon is this: Pony took history courses both freshman and sophomore year, ending up in Steve's classes. When Steve's latest TA quit because of drama, Frank hired Pony, who needed a job for work-study. It was perfect because Steve had no desire to sleep with her and they could concentrate on work (and on avoiding work as frequently as possible). 
> 
> Prom Face/Off could also take place spring semester during prom season. Donna's missing face during Chinese New Year is a funny bit of continuity, though. (For the record, S1E5, Secret Society, takes place during spring semester in my headcanon, even though it aired earlier than Prom Face/Off.)
> 
> "King Drunk" is a brand of beer the characters can be seen drinking in every episode. 
> 
> The chapter's title is a lyric from the song Suit & Tie by Justin Timberlake.


	4. This is Not a Dining Room Conversation

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> When the staff doesn't want to prep students for their final exam, Leonard makes robot duplicates for everyone. Steve's duplicate refuses to teach and slacks off instead. When he encounters Pony studying in the office, he does something Steve never would have considered, and what if Pony doesn't turn him down? Alternate office scene from S1E7, "Chinese New Year." Sexually explicit.

It was shaping up to be another crummy Christmas at UCI, not that Pony had wanted to spend it with her mother anyway. Pony hadn't been home for longer than a week since freshman year, not even during summer breaks. UCI may have been the "Worst College in America," a fact Pony didn't find out until she arrived, but at least it wasn't Detroit. It wasn't like she'd had a crappy childhood - her family loved her and showed it - but her prospects in Detroit were a dead-end. College was the perfect escape; Pony just wasn't sure what she'd do afterwards.

This Christmas, Pony's academic career had once again been jeopardized by the Dean's stupidity. It wasn't the first time and it wouldn't be the last, but giving every student failing grades on a whim, thus allowing the Mayor to shut down UCI for good, had to have been the biggest fuck-up of them all.

Pony had worked _hard_ , dammit, or at least hard enough to get B's. (She coasted through her history courses and made the requisite amount of effort to pass Lit.) Pony would graduate with either an English or History degree, if she graduated at all. Giant mutant babies, feral cannibalistic hippies, beings who dug through your dreams and exposed your secrets, and a Dean with a dangerously explosive temper? Yeah, Pony would be lucky to get out of this place _alive_.

The Mayor had given the Dean an ultimatum: improve the students' GPA by New Year's Eve or the school was history. A final exam would be administered, designed to cover every subject. The students had no idea which subject the exam would test them on, so they had one week to learn _everything_. Before, Pony was resigned to receiving a failing grade because she could make it up during spring semester, but now passing was paramount. There were no do-overs for this exam, and if too many students failed, UCI was toast.

Understandably, the teachers weren't into the idea, despite the fact their jobs were on the line. They put _incredible_ effort into avoiding teaching - all the time and effort put into building and programming their robot doubles could have been spent in the classroom - but this didn't surprise Pony, especially after befriending one of them. Steve Smith was the laziest teacher she'd ever met, and she had been in the Detroit public school system.

At this point, both the real professors and their doubles had abandoned their students, so it was up to the students to teach themselves. The library filled up with people, every computer terminal taken, so Pony took her textbooks and her broken laptop into the Smiths' office to be alone. She plunked down at Frank's desk and got to work. Some time later, Steve walked in.

"Hey, Pony."

"Hi, Steve," she said, her attention still fixed on her laptop. It was held together with clear packing tape and band-aids, the entire upper left of her screen gone. "How are the robot duplicates working out?" she asked.

"Great," Steve said. "It really frees up my time. Want a drink?"

Pony laughed mirthlessly. "Of course I do, but if you haven't already noticed, I've got a lot of work to do. All I want is peace and quiet." The screen flickered, and Pony sighed exasperatedly. "Not again," she muttered.

"You wanna use mine?"

"All my notes are on this laptop." Pony opened one of her books - a novel called "Skunt" - and flipped through the pages looking for chapter eleven. She thought she'd bookmarked it...

Pony heard the rattle of ice in a glass; Steve was having scotch on the rocks again. She looked up. Something wasn't quite right.

Steve lounged at his desk looking perfectly at home, but the way he carried himself seemed...off. His movements were stilted, and he hadn't taken a single sip of whisky yet. It was like he was just holding the drink because it looked good.

Peering more closely, Pony could spot the seams at the edges of his face. It wasn't Steve at all; it was his double.

"You're not Steve," Pony said. "You're his robot."

"So?" RoboSteve said. "I can hang out in his office if I like. After all, I'm supposed to be teaching his classes." He scoffed, "As if that would ever happen."

"Wow," Pony said flatly. "The birth of AI and you're useless."

"I prefer to think of myself as a pleasure-seeker," said RoboSteve. "Why are you studying, anyway?"

Pony rolled her eyes. "I'm _trying_ to pass the test. Don't you know that's why you were created? To help us?"

"So you're just gonna stay cooped up in here working all day? When you could be out playing in the snow," RoboSteve said, gesturing out the window, "or having a drink?" He shook his glass.

"That's the plan."

"Humans," he snorted. "I'm just gonna sit back, exercise my free will, and bask in the miracle that is the technological singularity."

Some time passed, RoboSteve silently websurfing on Steve's computer while Pony read her notes. She hardly noticed him stand and walk over to her side of the room.

"Ya know, Steve doesn't appreciate you enough. You bust your ass working for this department _and_ you're a full time student? There's like six books here, too. Let me guess, Flaherty assigned these."

"I've also got Bio, Calc, Linguistics, and Engineering to brush up on, no thanks to _you_." Pony glowered at him.

"How is this _my_ fault?"

"The Dean convinced _every_ teacher at this school to fail us, and you thought it was hilarious. Now I have to learn whatever's on this new test and it could be anything."

"Ok, that's a valid complaint, but I'm not Steve. I've just got his rockin' body."

Pony snorted. "Right." She looked up from her computer, and was shocked to see RoboSteve had removed his jacket and was unbuttoning his shirt.

"Um, that's not necessary. I already have some idea what--"

"Like what you see?" he asked, and gave her a wink.

Pony averted her gaze. "No, not at _all_. Button your shirt."

RoboSteve didn't, but he did stop before taking off his belt.

"You gotta lighten up, kid," he said. "Here." RoboSteve took a bottle of beer from the mini-fridge and set it next to Pony's coffee cup.

"Thanks but no thanks."

"Alright, then how about a massage? Your shoulders must be hurting from being hunched over that desk all day."

Pony prepared to snap at him to stop being an ass, then actually considered it. She'd never had a massage before, at least not a real one. Ex-boyfriends had offered, but they half-assed it, merely using it as an excuse to take her shirt off.

"What's in it for you?" Pony asked suspiciously.

"Nothing," RoboSteve said. "Just helping a friend relax."

Pony could tell whenever Steve was lying, and RoboSteve was no different.

"I'm not going to have sex with you."

"Fine by me," RoboSteve said. "Just a back massage, no sex. What do you say?"

Pony paused, thinking it over.

"Okay, sure," she said, still not totally convinced it was a good idea.

"Great!" he said. "You wanna sit right there, or...?" RoboSteve gestured to the couch.

"I'll stay right where I am, thank you."

RoboSteve positioned himself behind Pony, who continued to read her notes, and placed his hands on her shoulders. They didn't feel quite like a human's - his grip was too firm and his skin too rubbery - but when he started kneading her muscles it didn't much matter.

It hurt at first, Pony's muscles so tense they were hard as rock, but RoboSteve told her to relax and breathe and the pain dissipated. It started to feel really good in fact, and Pony was uncertain how RoboSteve was so skilled at this. Surely they hadn't specially programmed him. It must have been something the real Steve already knew.

Head lolling, Pony closed her eyes. Lost in thought - mostly about poststructuralism and existential phenomenology - she missed a question RoboSteve had asked her.

"Mm-hmm," she said, and was startled out of her thoughts by a strange sensation. "Where'd you get a vibrator?" she asked.

"My hands came equipped with this function. Don't ask me why."

RoboSteve slowly ran his vibrating hands down Pony's back and up again. He repeated the motion.

"Mmm, stay right there," Pony said, when he reached the bottom of her spine. "My lower back's been killing me."

"You could try exercise," RoboSteve said, "and before you get all defensive, I want you to know I like the way you look. You just need to stretch your muscles more often." 

Pony blushed. "You like how I look?"

"Yeah, I mean, you're cute. Anybody can see that. And I like a girl with curves."

RoboSteve ran his vibrating hands up Pony's sides and along the edge of her breasts. She knew she should yell at him to stop and avoid that area completely, but it felt too good. Pony let out a soft, involuntary moan.

Turning off vibration, RoboSteve kneaded the sides of Pony's breasts with his fingers before cupping them, risking a textbook to the jaw. Pony didn't know if it would even damage him, but that didn't matter. He brushed her nipples with his thumbs and said, "You know what would help you relax even more?" 

Pony chuckled. "I can take a guess." RoboSteve turned vibration back on, sliding his hands down Pony's torso and stopping at her waist.

"I can _'release'_ all that tension for you," he said in her ear. "If you get my meaning."

Pony could hear the quotation marks. 

"And what would you get out of it?" she asked.

RoboSteve spun Pony's chair around. He looked so smug she could punch him.

"The satisfaction of pleasing you."

Pony laughed. "The real Steve would _never_ say that! Some duplicate you are."

RoboSteve rolled his eyes. "You want me to do it or not?"

Pony looked out the window into the hall. There was no one there.

"Okay, but only for a minute. And stay out of sight."

RoboSteve removed his glasses, then knelt on the floor in front of Pony while she unzipped and pulled down her jeans. She was grateful the real Steve couldn't see her like this. What would he say? Would he be disgusted, or would he tease her relentlessly and never let her live it down? Did it really matter?

When RoboSteve ducked his head between her thighs, Pony stopped him, saying, "Whoah, hang on. Do you even have saliva? Is your tongue like a, well, real tongue?"

"Not exactly," he said, flashing Pony a mischievous grin. His answer made Pony nervous.

Pony was good at sex; she had it often. But college boys didn't like going down on her. They thought it was "gross," even when she did everything right. Grooming, shaving, _waxing_. No, the truth was they were just too lazy, expecting blow jobs with no reciprocation. Only one of Pony's boyfriends had ever enjoyed doing it, and he wasn't very good. She wondered if the real Steve was or if he even bothered. Pony knew Frank liked doing it and had a lot of experience. The thought thoroughly grossed her out.

Pony took a breath, leaned back in her chair, and closed her eyes. RoboSteve rubbed her clit with his fingers for a while before pressing his lips to her flesh. His skin felt almost like the real thing, but not quite. His tongue was slick but not warm, and Pony felt more embarrassed than aroused.

"That's enough," she said, and RoboSteve stopped.

"But you haven't come yet." 

"This is gonna sound insulting, but your mouth feels weird and I'm not really into it."

"Let me try again," he said. "There's something I can do I think you'll like."

Pony said, "Okay, but--"

"Trust me." 

RoboSteve parted her thighs and dove back in. Pony shut her eyes again and waited for something to happen. She was about to call it quits when she felt a fluttering against her clit. Pony sucked in a breath.

_RoboSteve's tongue could vibrate._

"Oh, shit," Pony said, when the vibration picked up speed. "Ohh, fuck..."

Pony reached down and clutched RoboSteve's shoulders. She had used sex toys before, but none of them felt like a human tongue. The licking and sucking sensation combined with the vibration overwhelmed her, turning Pony into an incomprehensible mess. The only real words she could say were "Oh" and "God" over and over, and wasn't that so cliché?

Just as Pony was about to come, the vibration's intensity decreased, then slowed, and returned to a gentle hum. Pony groaned in frustration.

"God _damn_ it, Steve, don't stop!" RoboSteve pulled away to laugh at her reaction. "You're such an asshole!" she said, swatting his arm.

"It's about the journey, Pony, not the destination," he said, and _that_ sounded like something the real Steve would say.

"Get over here," Pony growled, grabbing the back of RoboSteve's head and mashing his face into her crotch. 

RoboSteve kicked back into gear, slowly building her orgasm over again, switching between slower and faster speeds to tease a moaning, cursing Pony to madness. Finally she felt it - she was getting close - and RoboSteve ceased his teasing.

"Don't stop," she begged, "don't stop!"

Unable to speak, RoboSteve made no indication he'd heard her, but Pony knew he had. They exchanged a glance - RoboSteve looking up at her from between her thighs - before both robot and woman shut their eyes to focus on Pony's impending orgasm. 

"Almost there. I'm...I'm gonna come..." When she did climax, Pony's whole body shook, her knuckles turning white from squeezing RoboSteve's shoulders. To her deep embarrassment - even through the haze of pleasure - she let out a high-pitched moan and cried Steve's name. 

RoboSteve turned off vibration. Giving one last kiss to Pony's sensitive clit, he withdrew and looked up at her. He grinned. She had collapsed in her chair, looking and feeling thoroughly satisfied.

Pony pulled up her jeans. "Whew!" she said. "That was...That was something else."

"Feel better?"

"Yeah, actually, I do."

The door to the office suddenly opened and the real Steve Smith entered.

"Pony, you--" he began, before seeing the two of them - Pony in Frank's chair sitting with her legs parted in front of a kneeling robot Steve - looking at him like they'd been caught with their hands in the cookie jar. 

Pony cleared her throat and asked, "What is it, Steve?" She zipped her fly and spun the chair around so her legs were under the desk. Putting his glasses back on, RoboSteve stood up and sat on the edge. His shirt was still unbuttoned. Things could have been worse. Steve could have walked in ten seconds earlier.

Steve didn't miss a beat.

"Pony, you gotta help me get this place back to normal, so I can just chill, and you can...you can..." 

RoboSteve flopped down on the couch while Steve struggled to remember.  

"Pass the test," Pony said. 

"Pass the test. Of course, of course," Steve said. "Come on, please," he pleaded.

Pony sighed. "Fine, I'll help you."

"Thanks Pony, you're the best! Even if you _are_ fucking the other me."

Pony blushed. "But I--I'm not--"

"I saw you two through the window. You're pretty funny when you come. Now let's go to the library."

Steve left the room and Pony had no choice but to follow him.

"He's kinda right," RoboSteve said. "Your voice gets all shrill and you--"

"Okay, that's enough."

Pony closed her laptop and some pieces of tape fell off. She grabbed her coat and headed out the door. 

"What, no blow job?" RoboSteve called after her. Pony ducked her head back into the office.

"Can you even _have_ an orgasm?"  

RoboSteve shrugged. "Wanna find out?"

"No time. I gotta go help the real you save the school."

"Pfft. Suit yourself."

 

* * *

 

In the hall, once Pony had caught up to Steve, he asked her, "So how was I?"

"Ugh, can we not talk about this?"

"I'm just curious how my robot stacks up against the real thing."

"Well, I guess we'll never know."

"That's not what I'm asking." Steve grinned. "Out of all the orgasms you've ever had, rate it on a scale of one to ten."

"That's personal, Steve."

"Indulge me."

"Ugh, I guess..." She paused, thinking. "He did something for me that no other man could."

"That's not cryptic at all," Steve said sarcastically. By now they'd reached the exit to the history building and stopped walking so Pony could put her hat and gloves on. "What was it?" Pony stepped outside, resolutely silent; Steve followed her. "You're not gonna tell me?"

"His tongue."

"What about it?"

Pony grinned.

"It vibrates."

Steve gave her a look saying, _You've got to be kidding me._

"Yeah, I definitely can't compete with that."

Pony stuck her tongue out at him and laughed.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> We discover Pony grew up in Detroit, Michigan in S2E2, "Is College Worth It?"
> 
> The real Steve's lines when he first catches them - asking Pony to help him so he can "just chill" - are actually taken from the episode. 
> 
> The chapter's title is a lyric from the song Where Life Begins by Madonna.


	5. Honey and Mustard

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Everyone in China, IL thinks Pony and Steve are a couple. When they insist they aren't one, the town endeavors to get them together. After Steve saves Pony from Baby Cakes, she and Steve test if they're really as compatible as everyone thinks they are. Takes place after S2E6, "China-Man Begins."

"Well, it was a rough couple of weeks, but I'm back. I was sure I'd be sent to prison, but that batshit crazy Mayor found out I was your brother and felt sorry for me. Or maybe for you. One of those."

Frank set his briefcase on the desk and shooed Pony out of his seat. She sighed and reluctantly got up. Steve swiveled his chair around and asked, before his brother could even settle, "Welcome back, Frank. Quick question: Why do you think everyone in town assumed me and Pony were dating?"

"This again? It's been weeks! And since when did I give a shit?"

"The media attention only just died down," Pony said. "Everyone's finally forgotten about China Man, and Baby Cakes kidnapping me, and--"

"B.C. jerking off on the roof," Steve said, making a lewd gesture.

"Gross. I was gonna say Steve setting me on fire."

"Which didn't actually happen."

 "But even after all that," Pony said, "everyone still thinks we're a couple."

Frank squinted at Pony, then at Steve, then said, "You guys are kidding me, right? Because I just got back from jail, and you're asking me to weigh in on your hypothetical sex life."

"Yes," Steve replied. "That is exactly what we're asking."

Frank pinched the bridge of his nose and made a frustrated noise.

"Okay, fine. Look, it's really fucking simple. You two spend pretty much every waking moment together. There. Solved."

Steve and Pony shook their heads in confusion.

"What?"

"We don't..."

"That's not..."

"...spend all our time together."

"...remotely true."

"You even talk over each other and _some_ people find that endearing."

"No they don't," Steve and Pony said in unison.

Frank groaned. "Tell me, Pony," he said, "what a typical day of yours is like. You know, since you last dated someone."

"Um, okay. Well, if it's a weekday I get up around nine, shower, eat breakfast, then come here."

"Come on, don't lie to me, chica."

"Don't call me that. And what do you mean 'lie?'"

"You don't eat breakfast at that dump you call home. I always see you eating here. You pick up something gross and full of calories at the cafeteria and split it with my brother."

"That's what assistants _do_ , Frank," said Steve. "They get their bosses--" Pony cleared her throat audibly. Steve rolled his eyes and amended,  " _Colleagues_ whatever they need. Food, coffee--"

"Good conversation?" Frank added. "Pony's got your drink order memorized, bro. And all good assistants do, but you know exactly how she takes her own drink, don't you?"

"What does that have anything to do with--"

"What is it, if I may ask?"

Steve hesitated, then answered, "Two shot, nonfat, no whip latte."

Frank looked at Pony.

"A Red Eye," she said, as if it were obvious. "No cream or sugar. Steve's easy."

"I'll bet he is," Frank muttered. "Fine, a little harmless breakfast with a coworker. But the two of you are together how many hours a day?"

"Just a few."

"Can you quantify 'a few?' What about last week? Steve teaches class on Tuesdays. How long were you guys here Tuesday?"

"Um..."

"All told," Frank clarified.

"Four?"

"Six?"

"Eight-ish hours?"

"We were doing research for Steve's book," Pony said.

Frank laughed. "Okay that sounds really skeevy, even for you, Steve. If this girl were anyone but Pony, I would know that was a lie. Since when are you writing a fucking book? Never mind, I don't really care. How much of your time was spent just playing video games? Don't answer that, I already know. Different question: Did you say goodbye after work, or did you go out?"

"Huh?"

"Did you go to the bar after work?"

"Of course," Pony said.

"Why wouldn't we? At happy hour, drinks are half price!"

Frank sprung to his feet. "That's what I'm talking about!"

"Coworkers go to happy hour all the time to unwind," Steve said. "What's the big deal? Just because she's a girl doesn't mean I want to hit that."

"That brings me to my last bit of 'evidence.' The weekend. How many weekends do you spend time with Pony?"

"None of them," Steve said. "That's the point. We don't have to see each other. And that includes you, Frank, but you keep calling me to 'hang out.'"

"Not true," Frank said to Pony. "I hate this guy."

"Even though we share the same damn office and are forced into each other's company anyway."

"That's not the same as 'hanging out,' but whatever," Frank said moodily. "You're wrong, by the way."

"About which part?"

"About spending time with Pony. You see, I've been paying attention. During one of your 'dry spells,' by which I mean, 'periods of time neither of you are getting laid,' you go to the movies. Once, I even saw you go miniature golfing!"

"We're friends, Frank," Pony said. "Friends do stuff together, and last I checked, people of different genders could be friends."

"You really believe that?" Frank asked in disbelief. He shook his head. "You are _so_ young. As for you, Professor Statutory..."

"Hey!"

"You've never had a female friend in your life."

"So Pony's a woman. So what?" Steve gestured to himself and Frank. "If you hadn't noticed, we didn't have many friends to begin with. Of any gender."

"People don't know that, they assume you two 'besties' are going at it in the janitor's closet every chance you get and I've told you why. Now let's talk about jail. Also about getting my probation officer off my back, 'cause he's gonna be a real pain in the ass."

"I thought the Mayor had all the charges against you dropped," Steve said. "Why on Earth would he do that, anyway? He hates the Dean, and the Dean isn't too fond of us, so..."

"They saw your little love fest on the roof the night I got arrested. They 'ship' you or something. Thought it was romantic."

Pony said, "Saving someone from getting thrown off a building by a horny giant is romantic?"

"Will you two just accept everyone thinks you're boning and focus on _my_ problems for a change?"

"No." 

Frank sighed. "Well, if this 'dry spell' lasts, I guess you'll either have to leave town, or suck it up and date each other. You already know what you're getting into anyway."

Pony looked confused. "Huh?"

"You already..." Frank paused, realization dawning. "Oh my God, you never have, have you?"

"Never what?" Steve asked.

"Never slept together." Frank laughed. "Holy shit, I got fooled too! Have you ever even kissed?"

"No!" said Pony.

"Not that I can remember," Steve said. "We get pretty drunk sometimes."

"I'm certain we haven't," said Pony. "That's not something I'd forget."

"How do you know you're not compatible if you've never kissed?" Frank asked.

Pony shrugged. "We just know."

"It'd be like kissing my sister," Steve scoffed.

"We don't have a sister."

"Like kissing you, then."

Frank shook his head. "You've got to kiss to know for sure."

"No," said Pony, "we don't." Pouting, she sat down on the couch and crossed her arms.

"Ehh, maybe he's right," Steve said. "It's the only way to be certain we're not attracted to each other."

Frank punched the air. "Yes! He said I was right!"

Shocked, Pony exclaimed, "You can't be serious!"

"He's never gonna let it go until we do."

"You mean he has to _watch?"_

"It's not gonna mean anything," Steve said. "It'll take like two seconds."

"Ugh, fine!" Pony said. With that, she marched over to Steve, grabbed his face, and pulled him into a fierce kiss. With a loud smack, Pony pulled away, saying, "There! I felt nothing."

Steve was too stunned to make an assessment.

"That was terrible," Frank said. "All you did was attack his face. I mean a _real_ kiss. For at least 15 seconds."

"Where'd you come up with that number?" Steve asked.

Ignoring his question, Frank ordered, "Get up and face each other." Reluctantly, they did so. "Now stand close together. Closer, closer. Okay, now look into each other's eyes."

Steve looked down at Pony with forced boredom - all petulance with only a pinch of fear. He was a grown man about to kiss his best friend; he shouldn't be so nervous. Pony, meanwhile, looked anywhere but at Steve, until Frank prompted her a second time.

"Don't look at me, look at him. Now Steve, I want you to pull her close to you, and ever so gently--"

"I know how to kiss a woman, Frank." Steve rolled his eyes. "Ugh, he's the worst."

"Tell me about it," said Pony.

"Let's just get this over with."

Steve cupped Pony's face in his hands, closed his eyes, and kissed her. This time he put some effort into it, kissing her like he would any other first date and holding her for the full fifteen seconds.

When it was over, Pony sucked in the breath she'd been holding.

"I felt nothing," Steve said flatly. Pony's brow furrowed, looking hurt, but in a second it was gone. 

"Nothing at all," Pony agreed, chuckling.

"Good," Frank said. "Now that's over with, back to my problems..."

 

 

* * *

 

 

The rest of Steve and Pony's day went by as normal, Frank acting as a buffer between them. Any awkwardness was swept away by Frank's rage at the "System." Punching a cop shouldn't be a felony, he argued. Neither should accidentally loosing a tiger on the town, dead window washers or not.

Pony had a good excuse to leave, saying farewell to the bickering brothers and heading off to class. It gave her time to think - or rather, _not_ think - about the kiss. She should find it funny and dismiss it as another strange, silly moment of her life in China. Instead, she couldn't stop thinking about the feel of Steve's warm lips and the gentle touch of his fingers on her cheek.

It was so stupid, she told herself. It wasn't Steve she wanted, just a boyfriend. Just some attention, for once. Affection.

_Someone to throw her down and f--_

The bell rang. Why there were bells at a college, she didn't know.

Her professor yawned with boredom and lazily pointed at the whiteboard. Pony copied down the reading assignment (though she would just read the cliff notes online) and went home. Steve wouldn't miss her. One night apart would do them both good.

 

 

* * *

 

 

Later that night, Pony was going to bed when she heard her cell phone beep. It was a text message from Steve.

{{Can't sleep. Thinking about that kiss}}

Weird, she thought. Why would _Steve_ be thinking about their kiss? He'd acted so indifferent, as if it was no more intimate than a handshake.

Pony texted back. {{It was nothing, just Frank getting under our skin}}

With that, she put the phone down and rolled over. It beeped again.

{{Come over}}

Pony's eyes widened. She stared at the two bolded words for some time, her fingers hovering over the keys. Frozen, she was unsure how to respond. _"Haha"_ was her first impulse. _"Be right there"_ came a close second. She settled on neither.

{{Thats not a good idea}}

That should silence him, Pony thought, but his reply was instantaneous.

{{I want to know for sure}}

Now Steve's intentions were clear. Wave even the slightest chance of getting laid in front of him and he'd pursue it. Angry at his audacity, Pony shut off her phone. She told herself he was drunk and wasting her time.

Truthfully, she was scared.

 

 

* * *

 

 

_Hours earlier..._

"Would you give it a rest, Frank, and concentrate on your work? They've got friggin' _Gang Sang_ subbing, and he's doing a better job than you ever did."

"The school _mascot?_ How the fuck has a panda been teaching my class? It's not even a guy in a suit, it's a real goddamn panda. Fuck me!"

"Relax, the kids have just been reading the textbook. Gang Sang throws it at them and roars if they don't. It's worked out pretty well."

Frank sighed and turned on his computer.

"I probably got a flood of complaints about this over email. Let's just see here...Ah-ha! Got one here from Flip Flop. He's asking me about..." Frank paused, reading, then slammed his fist on the keyboard.

"What is it?"

"Cheese sticks! Every single one of these emails are just asking when I'll be back to buy them some! No concern at all for my well-being!"

"Nobody cares about your well-being, Frank. Just be grateful they actually noticed you were gone."

"When a panda replaces your professor, people are going to notice."

"Half of these students are so blazed all the time it's a wonder they even show up to class."

 

 

* * *

 

 

"And that, kids, is why the Great Depression sucked so much."

The bell rang and the students started packing up their things. Steve instructed them, over the class's chatter, "Make sure to read Chapter 14 for next time. There might be a quiz, if I get around to writing one, and it _will_ be graded!"

Pemsy raised his hand. "Are there any particular portions you want us to---"

" _All_ of Chapter 14. Now get the hell out."

Steve pulled a beer out of the cooler under the desk, propped his feet up, and wondered why the hell a college had a bell.

He also wondered what Pony was doing. (But _not_ because she was a good kisser!)

Steve gulped his drink and tried to dispel such thoughts.

A night apart would do them good.

 

 

* * *

 

 

The kiss kept nagging at Steve's brain the rest of the day. He did all his usual things - half-assing his research, neglecting the papers he was supposed to grade, drinking, running a treadmill for at least one half hour, then eating half a sleeve of Pringles. Watching several episodes of Mad Men, drinking, cooking himself a lightly grilled salmon with some risotto on the side, drinking...

No matter the activity, Pony was at the back of his mind. His last ditch plan was to pull up one of his favorite porn sites and whack off the tension, but that might make it worse. He left-clicked the image of an olive-skinned woman with long black hair, and as the video began, he knew he'd only imagine her as Pony, and how fucked up was that?

Steve was good and buzzed when he picked up the phone.

A short time later, during Pony's delayed reaction to his invitation, Steve actually stood up and started to pace around the apartment, muttering expletives. Reliable old Pony succinctly pointed out the obvious.

{{Thats not a good idea}}

He told her he wanted to be sure and hit "send" without a thought.

"What the fuck have I done?"

 

 

* * *

 

 

The next day, outside the history building, Pony handed Steve a Red Eye and he gave her a nonfat latte. Noticing her bloodshot eyes, Steve commented, "You look tired."

"Couldn't sleep," she replied. His text had kept her preoccupied all night.

"Me neither," Steve said. After a short pause, he chuckled and added, "But you already knew that."

Pony's hand froze on the door handle. She spun around and snapped, "Why'd you have to say that stuff last night, anyway? Why'd you...Why'd you have to tell me how you felt?" She clenched the fist that wasn't holding her drink. "Fuckin' Frank..."

Stunned by her outburst, Steve said, "How I 'felt?' Whoah, hey now, I didn't say I had... _feelings_ for you. I just wanted to--"

"To 'hook up?' Like with all your other students?"

That was _far_ worse than the late night confession she'd thought it was.   

Pony entered the building, letting the door slam in Steve's face. As quickly as he could, Steve followed her inside. Several students got in his way, slowing his attempt to catch up with her.

"Look, Pony, I'm sorry. Last night I crossed the line."

"The line had already been crossed, thanks to your asshole brother!"

Pony ran up the staircase, a panting Steve on her tail.

"That wasn't my fault!"

"Yes, it was," Pony said. They were outside Steve's office now. "You could have said no, Steve. But instead you wanted to try it. You said it was the 'only' way to be sure." Pony made air quotes, complete with sarcastic eye roll. "The two of you jerk me around all the time and I just put up with it day in and day out, and for what?" Pony shook her head, looking disgusted. "I thought we were friends."

"We _are_ friends."

"Then act like one."

"Have I intruded upon a lover's quarrel?" a voice asked. They hadn't noticed an unusually soft-footed Frank approach.

"Shut up Frank!" the pair snapped.

He chuckled. "See? You _do_ say stuff in unison."

"Only because we're both pissed at you," Pony said, "for trying to get inside our heads."

"I take pleasure in a job well done," Frank said, "but only when I care, which I no longer do. I've got more important things to worry about."

"Oh, right," Steve said. "Whether or not you'll end up in prison."

"I was going to say 'midterms,'" said Frank, "but that too."

"Shit, midterms!" Pony exclaimed. "We haven't written any review questions for the students!"

"Just tell them to re-read all the books," Frank suggested. "That's what I do."

"Fuck!" Steve said. "We haven't even written any questions for the _test_."

"That's _your_ job, Steve!" Pony said. To herself, she muttered, "How the hell did I forget about midterms?" Usually she was on top of things like that. Most of her work consisted of grading any papers and quizzes Steve forgot or neglected.

"Too busy locking lips," said Frank.

Pony narrowed her eyes. "Will you gag him, or should I?"

"He's my brother. I'll do it."

With Frank restrained -  ("I have a class to teach in twenty minutes!" were his last words before the sock went in his mouth) - Pony and Steve could return to their argument. Both wished they hadn't brought it up at all. Luckily, Pony had a good excuse to flee.

"I've got to go. I have Feminism and Modern French Philosophy in ten minutes."

"Have fun," said Steve, waving her off, but without his usual smirk. He sat at his desk opposite a squirming Frank, looking sullen.

"Don't forget to write those questions," Pony said. Steve merely shrugged in reply, and tossed a balled up piece of paper at his brother. It hit him in the forehead.

"What are you looking at?" he asked Frank, who could only glare at him.

 

 

* * *

 

 

"Okay class, the midterm will cover all of the essays we've read so far, but tonight I want you to focus on Angela King's analysis of Michel Foucault's 'Discipline and Punish.'"

Before the professor could even finish her sentence, students had begun to leave. Pony took her time gathering up her things and was the last to exit the classroom. In the hall, she ran into Baby Cakes hanging up some flyers. He had really overdone it, crowding the other notices, like the auditions for the Vagina Monologues and a screening of Lesbian Avengers Eat Fire Too.

"Baby Cakes? What are you doing here? This is the Women's Studies department."

Things had cooled down after the incident on the roof and Pony had forgiven him for dragging her up a tower like she was Fay Wray, but it was still strange seeing him in a feminist space, i.e. the crappy basement of the English Lit building. One of the fluorescent lights above them flickered, then went out.

"Hey, Pony! I'm just puttin' up these posters for the RPS Society." He taped another one beside the door to Pony's classroom. At Pony's quizzical look, he clarified, "It's a club for people who play Rock-Paper-Scissors."

Pony blinked. "Rock-Paper-Scissors? I had no idea there was a club for that." She eyed the flyer. Along with meeting times below it, there was a silver crest split into three segments, one for each hand. "Part of me isn't really surprised."

"I was goin' to the History Building next if you wanna come along."

Pony looked down and nudged a cockroach away with her foot.

"That's okay, Baby Cakes. I think I'm just gonna head home."

"Steve and Frank will be done with classes, too. Maybe we can all have a drink to celebrate Frank gettin' outta jail."

"Well, I didn't want to say anything, but...me and Steve aren't really talking. And Frank's a dick, but that's a given."

Baby Cakes looked surprised and more than a little sad. "You and Steve had a fight?"

"Yeah, but it's not a big deal," Pony lied. "It'll blow over."

"Not a big deal? You and Steve never fight."

Pony could name over a dozen fights she'd had with Steve in recent memory, but then again, those ones never made her want to run away and hide. She'd always give Steve a piece of her mind, not try to avoid him. 

"What'd you fight about?"

The sincere, open concern on Baby Cakes' face, along with the pressing need to make Steve look bad, compelled Pony to blurt, "Frank made me and Steve kiss yesterday to see if we were really as 'compatible' as everybody thought. Steve acted cool about it, but he texted me last night telling me to come over. He wanted to 'know for sure' if we were compatible."

"So yer mad at Steve for askin' you to 'do it' with him?"

Pony fidgeted, adjusting the strap on her bag.  

"Technically...he didn't actually _ask._ "

"Then why you so mad at him? Maybe he just wanted to talk."

Pony rolled her eyes. "Nobody invites a girl to their apartment at one in the morning to 'talk,' least of all Steve."

"Did he say he was sorry?"

"Well, yes, but--"

"Then what's the problem?"

"Um..."

Pony looked away, struggling to find a response, and she knew that was a mistake when she heard him say, "Sounds to me like yer afraid of your _own_ feelings. That if you tell him you like him and it don't work out, you might lose a friend."

Baby Cakes' words poked a hole in the flimsy, hastily-erected armor around Pony's heart, and she broke down and told him everything.

"That's exactly what I'm afraid of! If I enjoyed kissing Steve, then I might enjoy doing _other_ stuff with him, and I can't have that! It's one thing being friends with the guy, but it's another actually sleeping with him. Steve would make the worst boyfriend! He's an unmotivated, selfish, alcoholic womanizer. He's twice my age, he's bald, he wears glasses, and his fashion sense is straight out of the '70s and not in a good way."

"Okay, okay, that's fair. But what do you like about him? Yer together all the time, so there's got to be somethin'."

This was something Pony really had to think about. For better or worse, Steve was her closest friend, and yet she couldn't remember why or how.

"Okay, well, I guess Steve's funny, he's smart, he always defends the people he cares about." She chuckled. "Oh, and I can drink him under the table."

"And he cares about _you_. He risked his life savin' you that night on the roof."

Pony shuddered. "Don't remind me."

"I'm really, really sorry about that. I was confused."

"It's okay. We all go a little crazy sometimes when we're...frustrated." 

"All's I'm sayin' is you should give Steve a second chance. "

Pony sighed. "Fine, I'll talk to him. Thanks for listening, Baby Cakes." Pony headed for the exit. "I'll see you later. Good luck with Rock-Paper-Scissors."

Once she was almost to the end of the hall, Pony remembered something extremely important.

"Don't tell Frank!"

"Huh? Tell Frank?" Baby Cakes hollered back.

"NO! _DON'T_ tell Frank!"

"No problem, Pony. I'll let Frank know."

"UGH!"

 

 

* * *

 

 

Steve had no choice but to let Frank free. After a wrestling match that Steve won, _of course_ , the brothers called a truce and Frank went on his way to get his job back from UCI's beloved mascot Gang Sang. (The panda wasn't getting paid, other than bamboo, but Frank still wouldn't get his class back so easily. Steve relished this fact.)

Finishing up his coffee and combing his notes, Steve considered what angle would be right for the midterm. Multiple choice? Fill-in-the-blank? Essay? He wondered what would be easiest to grade. _Questions, questions..._

_I'll just recap what we did this semester so far. One or two questions about each event we covered. Easy!_

Feeling good, Steve got to work. His notes were a mess and entirely out of order, so he began by reviewing the syllabus. Nothing shameful about that, it was just to remind him.

Steve couldn't find the syllabus, then it hit him.

He hadn't written one.

 _What the hell have I even been_ talking _about all semester? Oh God, I need to find a student and copy_ their _notes. If only Pony were here..._

"Knock, knock," came a deep voice. Steve looked up. Baby Cakes stood in the open doorway carrying an armful of paper and a giant roll of tape.

"Hey, B.C., you didn't happen to take History 151, did you? 'Development of American Civilization Since 1876?'" Steve shuffled through the paperwork on his desk frantically. "Is that what I'm teaching right now? Or am I teaching 'U.S. Science and Technology II: From Edison to the Bomb?'"

Steve checked his computer, but whatever folders weren't labeled "P0rn" were generically (unhelpfully) labeled "History," their contents made up of tests, slides, and documents from previous classes. This semester must have been done entirely on the fly.

"Whoah, slow down," Baby Cakes said, putting down his pile of papers to roll Steve's chair away from the desk. "Take a deep breath and think about it. What pops into your head first?"

"The Great Depression."

"Good. What about it?"

"It started in 1929, when the stock market crashed. But where does that fit in with what I was teaching?" Steve looked up at him. "What have I been doing for the last 8 weeks?"

"Your best," Baby Cakes said, after only a slight pause. He gently removed the beer Steve had pulled from the mini-fridge before it reached his mouth. Because this was B.C. and not Frank, Steve restrained himself from shouting, calmly saying, "Give it back."

"In a second. Have you tried askin' Pony for help? Also, can I put these up outside your office?"

Baby Cakes held up a flyer for the "RPS Society." In the center was a silver crest with three disembodied hands, and beneath it was a blurb about the upcoming Rock-Paper-Scissors tournament.

"You finally organized," Steve said, deftly avoiding B.C.'s first question. "Good for you."

"I'll take that as a yes," he said, taping a flyer to the window. After smoothing it out, he turned around. "Really, though, have you talked to Pony?"

"Not since she left for that 'women's studies' class. I can assure you, if she were here, I'd make her write the damn midterm herself."

"Call her up and ask her advice. She's real smart. She could help over the phone."

Steve narrowed his eyes at B.C. "Why are you so insistent I talk to Pony? Did you bump into her today?"

_Did she tell you what happened?_

Baby Cakes sat down on the couch; it creaked.

"Yeah, and she seemed really down. I asked her to come and put up some flyers, but she felt like goin' home." He handed Steve his beer back. "Maybe she just needs the right person to cheer her up."

"Ugh, Baby Cakes, I know you mean well, but me and Pony are kinda...We kinda got in a fight." Steve spun his chair around. He couldn't look B.C. in the eye for this. "You see, uh, yesterday Frank made us _kiss_. I acted real smooth, but last night I couldn't help it. I just had to see her again, to...to _kiss_ her again. So I had a few too many drinks and texted her. I, uh, asked her to come over my place. This morning she was pissed. I didn't understand why at first, but I do now. All she wanted was a friend, and me and Frank fucked it up. _I_ fucked it up." 

Steve looked up expecting to see shock. Surprise, disgust, _something_. But B.C. looked thoughtful, as though he were trying to think of some textbook Baby Cakes "wisdom" to impart.

The son of a bitch already knew.

"Oh, no _,_ what did Pony tell you?"

"All that stuff about you kissin' her and textin' her. She's still pretty upset."

"I got that."

"You two gotta communicate better about this. These are some complicated emotions flyin' around."

"Ya think?" Steve guzzled his beer. A part of him wanted to throw it at the wall. "I tried to text her after she left for class..."

B.C. shook his head, like this was the stupidest thing Steve could have done.

"...but she wouldn't reply. I already apologized, what more does she want?"

"Did you try talkin' to her in person?"

"Well, yeah, but Frank was there, and Pony ran off before we could finish."

"I see," B.C. said. "I think we gotta get to the bottom of this before you go textin' anything else." Putting on the tone of a therapist, Baby Cakes asked, "Why did you kiss her in the first place? Was this somethin' you thought about doin' before?"

Steve smiled slightly. "Well, _yeah_ , I mean..." He trailed off, took another swig of his beer, then continued, "Me and Frank have this thing with the new female students, where we pick which ones we want to bang and which ones are off limits. So the first day we met Pony...Well, not the _first_ day. When she was a freshman, Pony sat way in the back of the big lecture hall and never said a word. When she was a sophomore, she walked in during office hours and we made our formal introductions. I forget what she was asking about, probably some bullshit about an exam, but as soon as she left I, well, I called _dibs_."

This B.C. did react to, with the rise of his eyebrows, but he stayed silent.

"Frank was _pissed_. He thought she was cute and he was immediately smitten. She was alright, not really my type, but I saw those hearts in his eyes and I just had to quash his hopes. So I called dibs."

B.C. steepled his fingers and nodded for Steve to continue.

"It wasn't until my TA submitted a sexual harassment complaint and quit - it was total bullshit, I might add - that Frank suggested Pony as a replacement. I knew he only wanted her around 'cause he had a crush on her. Like I said, I made him think I wanted to sleep with her, but I didn't, okay? And when I hired her, we hit it off right from the start. She wasn't anything like the other girls. _This_ girl... "

Steve trailed off.

"Uh-huh?"

"I wanted to keep her around for as long as I could. You see, Baby Cakes, even if you wanna hit it, you can't jeopardize a friendship like that." Steve snorted in disgust at his own sentimentality. "Did I really just say that?"

"You did, and there's nothin' wrong with that. Pony's cool and she's a good friend. You could do worse."

"Don't I know it."

"You didn't feel anything kissin' her?"

"I only said I didn't feel anything to get Frank off our backs. But I _did_ feel something. And last night I just wanted to...explore it, ya know?"

"But Pony didn't feel the same way?"

"Nope. Totally bit me in the ass. That's what taking a risk gets you." He set his beer down. "And drinking too much."

"What if..." Baby Cakes appeared unsure what to say next. "Nah, never mind."

"What is it?"

"What if Pony gettin' upset ain't for the reason you think."

"What are you talking about?"

"Picture this: Your best friend just kissed you, then asks you to 'do it' with 'em."

"Which I didn't, but okay."

"And your friend don't see anythin' wrong with that, but it makes you real uncomfortable."

"Fair enough. He crossed the line, hurt my feelings. He apologizes, I don't accept it because I'm still pissed. I can see where Pony's coming from."

"Yeah, but, what if it makes you uncomfortable for a _different_ reason."

"What other reason would she have to..." Steve blinked. "Hang on, you're not suggesting--"

"Pony's scared she likes you too, Steve. She told me." Baby Cakes took a quick look over his shoulder, lowered his voice, and said, "Don't tell Frank."

"She _said_ that?" Steve shouted. At a lower volume, he asked, "When was this?"

"This morning after class."

"Wow. Okay, I don't really know what to do now."

"I think you should go to her. And before you say no, hear me out. You two are like honey and mustard. You never woulda thought to combine them, but you also can't imagine a world without it. Chicken strips wouldn't be the same. Pretzels, um...Salad. Wings. Corn dogs..."

"I get the picture."

"They're pretty good apart, but get them together, and _magic_ happens! Pony's the honey to your mustard, Steve, but you gotta be brave and go tell her that."

"She's honey and I'm mustard."

"Yeah."

"What if I'm the honey and Pony's the mustard?"

"It works either way. Now go get her!"

Steve took one last swig of his beer, stood up, and marched out the door. He immediately walked back in.

"Where exactly _is_ Pony? Also, get the hell out of my office."

 

 

* * *

 

 

Steve searched campus, hoping he'd bump into Pony before having to make a trip to her squalid apartment. He checked the cafeteria, where he could grab a sandwich if she wasn't there.

Pony _was_ there, over by the soda fountain trying to get it to dispense ice.

"Come on you son of a--"

"Pony. Hey."

Pony turned around, looking surprised.

"Hey, Steve."

She didn't look angry anymore, and her nervous body language held a totally different meaning after his talk with Baby Cakes.

"Look, I'm sorry I made you uncomfortable last night," he said. "I didn't mean to--"

"No, _I'm_ sorry. I overreacted to what? Three texts? Besides, that's...not why I was upset."

Pony looked away.

"It's not?"

"No, I was mad because..." Pony met his gaze, and Steve had never noticed the flecks of gold in her eyes before. "Because I was afraid I had feelings for you too, and what that would mean for our friendship."

"We'll stay friends no matter what happens," Steve said. " _If_ you want something to happen. Do you?" Steve reached for her hand, and was delighted when Pony's fingers wrapped around his own.

"I don't know," she said softly. "Maybe?"

Pony stepped closer, enough for Steve to wrap his arms around her if he wanted. His heartbeat quickened, and wow this was lame, he thought.  _I'm forty, not a frigging teenager._

 _"Hello!"_ said a voice. "We need to get some soda, assholes!"

"Watch it, punk, I'm a professor!"

Pony pulled Steve away before a fight with the thirsty student could escalate.

"Before we were interrupted," she said, "I believe you were asking me out."

"That's right. Were you going to call me an asshole this time?"

"Hey, I said _Frank_ was the asshole, remember?"

"Does that mean it's okay to kiss you again?"

Pony smiled, and Steve took that as a yes. He leaned down, bringing their faces so close together he could feel her breath on his lips.

"Right now?" Pony said incredulously. "Don't we have bigger problems?"

Steve was puzzled at first, then his eyes widened and he said, "Shit, you're right! The midterm!" Pony used his mini-freak-out to snag her abandoned soda. "Okay, here's what we're gonna do. We're gonna order some takeout, hole up in the office, and spend the night banging it out."

Pony sipped her drink and muttered, "Phrasing."

Steve rolled his eyes. "You know what I meant."

"Yeah, yeah," said Pony. She took his hand. "Let's do this."

 

* * *

 

"I'm pretty sure our first President didn't have two sets of testicles."

"How can you be sure?"

"Because that's impossible. He didn't have a horse made of crystal, either."

"He invented cocaine, though, right?"

"How many shots of whiskey have you had?"

"I've lost count."

Pony and Steve sat on the couch in his office sketching out test answers and drawings of George Washington on a large notepad. Steve took a swig of Four Roses from the bottle.

"Gimme that," Pony said, snatching the bottle from him. After some more silent sketching - now one of George Washington with dicks for toes - Pony commented, "I'm glad you didn't get tequila again. I may be Mexican, but I grew up in Michigan. Which makes me curious. If you're from Illinois, why do you keep a bottle of _bourbon_ in your drawer?"

Steve laughed. "Because Frank hates it." 

Pony laughed with him, drawing Washington's crystal horse.

"We gotta pick up some Founders next time. Stock this fridge with some decent beer for once." Pony handed the whiskey back to Steve, then laid her head on his shoulder.

"Mmm."

"What?"

Pony lifted her head. "Huh?"

"You made a cute little sigh." Steve imitated the noise.

"Shut up." After a beat, Pony asked, "Cute?"

"Yeah. Cute."

"You think I'm cute?"

Pony looked up at him, smiling slightly.

"From a purely objective--Mmph!" He was cut off by Pony's lips. "...standpoint. Cute the way a small dog is cute." Pony straddled Steve's lap and kissed him again.

"Shh," she said. "No more talking."

 

 

* * *

 

 

Later and with less clothing, Steve and Pony resumed drinking and drawing caricatures of dead presidents.

"Does this mean everyone was right about us?" Pony asked him. "Does this mean--"

"It doesn't have to mean anything," Steve said. He looked over and saw Pony glaring at him like a punch was coming any second. "I mean there's no pressure. I didn't say that if you asked me I wouldn't..."

"Commit?"

Steve made a face. "Ugh, I hate that word."

Pony giggled. 

"But yeah, I would," Steve said. "If you asked."

"No pressure," said Pony with a smile.

 

 

_The End_

_  
_

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *After punching a cop at the end of China-Man Begins, Frank would have been charged with Assault and Battery on a Law Enforcement Officer, probably Reckless Endangerment for what happened with the window washers, and Involuntary Manslaughter for getting one of them eaten by a tiger. He was also Resisting Arrest. You go to jail while awaiting your trial, then to prison if you are convicted.
> 
> *Apparently "Happy Hour" drink discounts are illegal in Illinois, but whatever.
> 
> *"Feminism and Modern French Philosophy" is a book by Jeffner Allen and Iris Marion Young.
> 
> *I also reference Angela King, a student from the University of North London who wrote a paper on Michel Foucault titled "The Prisoner of Gender: Foucault and the Disciplining of the Female Body." 
> 
> *"Lesbian Avengers Eat Fire, Too" is a real documentary about the early '90s New York activist group the Lesbian Avengers. 
> 
> *Fay Wray was the lead actress in the original 1933 version of King Kong. 
> 
> *The Rock-Paper-Scissors Club is a real club at the University of Kentucky. The World RPS Society is the national organization behind competitive Rock-Paper-Scissors tournaments. 
> 
> *Brad Neely later Tweeted that Steve is 35 years old, but when I wrote this I assumed he was 40.
> 
> *The names of the classes Steve teaches are classes at UMass Amherst. I only mention this because I am _that_ unoriginal. 
> 
> *We find out Steve "called dibs" on Pony in S3E3, "Charlize." 
> 
> *"Phrasing" is actually a recurring joke in the cartoon series Archer, said whenever somebody makes a double entendre. 
> 
> *The "facts" about George Washington are from Brad Neely's song about our first president. You can find the video [here.](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=l7iVsdRbhnc)

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading, everybody! I hope you enjoyed it.


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